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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29395707">The Quarantine Project</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pages_of_altaire/pseuds/pages_of_altaire'>pages_of_altaire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danny Phantom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Co-workers, Daniel being Vlad's IT guy, Daniel being the bane of Vlad's existence, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mystery Madness, Other, Parody, Pompous Pep, Quarantine, Remote work is gonna kill us all, Vlad Masters being a fruitloop, Zoom being Zoom, social distancing, workplace shenanigans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:06:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29395707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pages_of_altaire/pseuds/pages_of_altaire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dalv Co. on Zoom is just like any other workplace. No one wants to turn their cameras on, someone always forgets to mute themselves, and the boss overworks everyone like a total asshole. But despite the drawbacks, the employees at Dalv Co. can all agree on one thing: nothing is more entertaining than watching their CEO slowly spiral into quarantine madness.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Danny Fenton/Vlad Masters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>241</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Pompous Pep Discord - Our Fanfics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There has always been an aura of mystery surrounding the CEO of Dalv Co.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Save for his personal assistant, no one really knew the man outside of his own office on the fifty-third floor of Dalv Co. </span>
  <span>Headquarters.</span>
  <span> In fact, Vlad Masters was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> elusive that -</span>
  <em>
    <span>to this day</span>
  </em>
  <span>- not every single employee has even met him face to face. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It’s actually kind of ridiculous,” Abby mused through Zoom. “I mean, there’s just</span>
  <em>
    <span> no need</span>
  </em>
  <span> for all this secrecy.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, don’t bosses get to choose their own hours?” Angela said. “Maybe he’s just a night person.” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate snorted into his beer through the screen. “The man runs a fortune-five-hundred, Angie. He still has to keep a regular schedule, at the very least to pretend he gives a crap.” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s not like he could hide from us for long,” Abby said. “We see him all the time now, don’t we?” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>When COVID quarantine happened and the world officially shut down, everyone knew that they would have to transition to a remote setting to continue to do their jobs. It wasn’t as if Zoom suddenly made having meetings more bearable; in fact, it felt like being forced to choose something that was necessary but insufferable (like doing taxes, or putting in catheters). Either way, it was nobody's first choice.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>But if there was one positive side to this, it was that all three hundred employees in the building got to finally see what Vlad Masters was truly like on a day-to-day basis. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, but can we please agree on one thing?” Abby said. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Brad shook his head. “Agree on what?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That Vlad Masters is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate cringed. “Really?”  </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yuh-huh!” Abby said. “Pictures lie. I mean, you’ve seen celebrities. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>look that good in real life. For all you know, they could’ve done a ton of touch-ups on him. But he</span>
  <em>
    <span> actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> looks like that!” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate looked doubtful. “I mean, he looks alright for a dude. But it’s nothing to write home about.” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you blind?” Angela shoved her face closer to the webcam. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> blind? Because I will invest in a good pair of glasses for you to admire him up </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You both need to calm down. Back me up here, Brad.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Brad actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>blushed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Sorry, buddy.” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Et tu, Brad?!” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The man’s got symmetry, Nate, okay? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Symmetry,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Brad emphasized, pinching his fingers together to make the point. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is that remotely important?” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>important</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate crossed his arms; his friends were unbelievable. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot </span>
  </em>
  <span>believe it only takes a chiseled jawline for all three of you to suck the one-percent's dick,” he said heatedly. “Whatever happened to ‘fuck the rich’?” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abby smirked. “I mean, he can fuck me any day he wants.” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shut </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Abby!” Nate snapped as he watched the girls fall out of frame from laughter. Even Brad was chuckling. Ugh. He couldn’t wait for quarantine to end so he could go make new friends. Docking points for all three of them. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, fine. He’s good looking or whatever,” he conceded. “But can we please also agree on something else?” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Angela wiped a tear from her eye. “What?”  </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That man is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking nuts</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, all four of them nodded somberly. It only took them seven minutes into the Zoom meeting to realize that Vlad took ‘temporarily working from home’ to mean ‘having </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> be working’. Within a span of an hour, the employees got loaded with so many responsibilities that, by the end of the meeting, everyone turned their cameras off so they could flip him off in real time. It was a bad and pretty demoralizing start for virtual work. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The four friends shared a collective sigh.  </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hot or not, Vlad Masters was a total </span>
  <span>fruitloop</span>
  <span>. </span>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>To be continued...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Abby stared at her computer </span>
  <span>screen,</span>
  <span> mouth open in shock with her morning donut between her fingers. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Vlad Masters had shared his screen and was going over some graphs. Sales. Bottom line. Gross profits. ‘No one’s getting fired’, blah blah blah. On any regular day, Abby would’ve completely tuned out three minutes in. Vlad should feel lucky that she even bothered to wear a little makeup for today’s Zoom meeting. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But today? Oh, today was </span>
  <em>
    <span>different.</span>
  </em>
  
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Are you seeing this? </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Angela Campbell</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] dude, I thought I was the only one...</span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Has he been drinking? </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Angela Campbell</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] who wouldn’t...it’s QUARANTINE. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby snickered at Angela’s dry retort and closed the chatbox. It wasn’t that big of a deal, was it? She could be a professional. Her eyes shifted back to the screen to stare at the small video of her boss giving his presentation. Oh, sweet </span>
  <em>
    <span>lord</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Should someone unmute and tell him? </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Angela Campbell</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] and have him know that I exist as a human being? NO... </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] I feel like I’m floating out of my body. This can't be real life. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Angela Campbell</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] I can’t-...my inner </span>
  <span>weeb</span>
  <span> is coming out... </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby had to turn off her camera at that so she could giggle to herself. Trust Angela to secretly enjoy the situation and add Vlad to her growing mental list of favorite waifus. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She tilted her head for a little perspective, staring contemplatively at her boss’s video frame. In a way, he looked fucking cute. 10/10 would still smash, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But only with feelings, and then she gets to feed him grapes. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Someone ping-ed her private chatbox. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Bradley Larson</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Abs.</span>
  <span>..Is</span>
  <span> this real?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] I KNOW.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Bradley Larson</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] The man’s got cat ears...and a flower crown on his head. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] LMAO. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Bradley Larson</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] He looks adorable... </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] You hate to see it. Wow, Brad, what a SIMP. Rofl. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Bradley Larson</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Shut up! O///O </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby found Bradley’s video frame and suppressed a smile when the man blushed a rosy pink and then turned his camera off. It was too easy. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was pretty sure it was the collective fear of Vlad Masters that prevented everyone from speaking out, because for the rest of the hour-long meeting, her boss presented work jargon sporting a pair of white fluffy cat ears complete with a crown of Spring flowers. The Zoom filter looked absolutely ridiculous on the man, who maintained a cool and professional demeanor as he was explaining some duties to management.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Angela Campbell</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] meow </span>
  <span>meow</span>
  
  <span>mutherfucka</span>
  <span>... </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] DECEASED-  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was no way she could continue the meeting with a straight face and her camera on, so Abby just turned it off and resigned herself to an hour of goofing off, sending messages back and forth with her co-workers. Apparently, her and her friends weren’t the only ones who noticed. Someone even screenshotted him. Abby made the guy swear he would send it to her. This was definitely going into the NSFW folder on her desktop.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As the screen stopped sharing and everyone’s faces popped back up on screen, there was a moment of silence as Vlad stared at his own video frame. It was impressive, to say the least. The man’s expression betrayed </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But there was just enough of a lull in the air that everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> he knew what the hell just happened. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Vlad cleared his throat. “</span>
  <span>Meeting’s</span>
  <span> dismissed. Have a good day, everyone,” he said curtly before ending the call. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby shot out of her chair and dove for her phone. She needed that screenshot for her new wallpaper background.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Vlad was sure that, if this quarantine continued any longer, he was going to find himself smack dab in the middle of a homicide case. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Daniel,” he gritted his teeth. “Just because you can change my Zoom filter to anything you want, doesn’t mean you </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Danny tried to look as innocent as possible while munching on his cereal. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, fruitloop. I’m not particularly tech-savvy.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tread carefully, badger,” Vlad warned and turned to leave the kitchen. There was an ominous feeling in the air. “Tread </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> carefully.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on! You’ve always been such a cat person!”  </span>
</p><hr/><p>To be continued...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, what we’re trying to do is to polish this algorithm for broader applications. Now, when it comes to memory space, Dropbox <em> is  </em> winning. But our compression algorithm has-Sir? ... <em> Sir </em>?” </p><p>There was dead silence in the Zoom room as Vlad’s video square suddenly disappeared.  </p><p>“Hold on, let me call him and see what’s wrong,” Jolie said before muting her mic. Her video screen showed her on her phone, waiting for the boss to pick up.  </p><p>Nate just sat there awkwardly in his unusual combination of dress shirt and boxers, feeling a bit disjointed at being cut off from his presentation so early. He opened up the chatbox to see if anyone was talking, only to find a message from his work nemesis.  </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] He hated your presentation so much he actually bounced. Lmao.  </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] Why don’t you suck. My. Ass.   </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] Pffffft. The only thing this mouth is sucking is Vlad’s-  </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] DON’T. FINISH. THAT SENTENCE.  </p><p>“So uh, how’s everyone doing?” Nate asked awkwardly instead to try to break the lull. The Zoom silence screamed back at him with individual black video squares of his fellow co-workers. Nobody wanted to answer back, apparently. Nate was left to marinate in his own embarrassment.  </p><p>He looked over at Jolie, whose call apparently went through because she was now laughing. Her lips moved to form a string of words into the phone that was indecipherable to everyone else.   </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] You try so hard. Such a good boi.  </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] I hate you... </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] Aw, honey. You know you’re the only one for me.  </p><p>A few minutes later, the familiar ‘ping’ signaled that Vlad was back online. The man straightened his tie and looked into the camera, appearing unbothered. </p><p>“My apologies, everyone,” Vlad said coolly. “It seems my cat has become quite fixated on my computer wires.”  </p><p>Well, that he did <em> not  </em>expect.  </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] Man has a cat.  </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] Man has a love for the feline kind. O_O </p><p>“But yes, Mr. Schwimmer, I believe you were in the middle of presenting the latest updates on your compression algorithm.” </p><p>“Um, yes.” Nate hurried to close his chatbox. He sat up a bit straighter and cleared his throat. “As I was saying, while the algorithm may not have the edge in saving memory space for now, it does excel in compressing video and audio files-” </p><p>“Maddie, <em> please </em>.”  </p><p>Nate gawked at the screen as a small white furball climbed onto Vlad’s lap to give the man a piece of her mind.   </p><p>The cat looked young enough, probably still caught up in the rebellious frenzy of her teenage years. She meowed at the screen incessantly and pawed at Vlad’s chest, feeling quite put out at being ignored. It was <em> lunchtime </em>, dammit, and her food bowl was half-empty! When will these humans learn to anticipate her needs before she even knows what they are?!   </p><p>“Maddie, darling, I’m in the middle of a meeting,” Vlad cooed at the little thing, petting her head with a gentleness that made Nate and Abby’s heads implode.   </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] MAN HAS GIVEN CAT A NAME.  </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] AGHIJKEIJ THIS IS SO ADORABLE. MADDIE &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3  </p><p>It was like staring at a whole new person. Nate watched the man as he tried to coax Maddie to calm down, talking to her in a patient and soft tone. Maddie rolled around in his lap, being temperamental and swatting at him erratically. It didn’t take long before Vlad folded under the pressure of Maddie’s imploring gaze like a cheap tent.  </p><p>“Excuse me,” Vlad said casually and stood up with the cat in his arm. “Maddie needs her lunch now, so I will be right back. Nate, we’ll pick up where you left off in just a minute.”  </p><p>Did he just get replaced on his boss’s priority list by a <em> cat </em>? “Yes, sir,” Nate answered, dumbfounded. </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] Well, now we know where we stand on Vlad’s priority list.  </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] I feel oddly rejected.  </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b> : [private] That’s because we <em>  were </em> rejected.  </p><p>Nate rolled his eyes at the retort.  </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] Like you actually care.  </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] Hmm...a little less now that I’ve got a full show of Mr. Master’s soft side. 😉</p><p>Ugh. What cliché bullcrap.    </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] Predictable. I bet someone’s super wet now.  </p><p><b> Abby Winters </b>: [private] Like splash mountain, baby.   </p><p><b> Nate Schwimmer </b>: [private] ...You’re 30, Abigail. Have some self-respect.  </p><p>Seriously, he’s <em> had </em> it with the people in this company.  </p><hr/><p>To be continued...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was two weeks into quarantine, and Abby could feel herself losing her mind in her own studio apartment. A space she once associated with comfort has now turned into a never-ending nightmare from which she could not escape. It started in the bedroom, where she usually did most of her work. When she got sick of staring out the same window to see the same red brick wall on the other side, Abby moved her laptop to the little breakfast table by the kitchenette. It did the trick for a little while, but the kitchen stool was uncomfortable and made her butt itch. Eventually the lack of comfortable seating drove Abby into the bathroom, where she typed out her reports while sitting on the toilet (seat down because she was raised right). One time she even sat in the bathtub with her butt cushioned by pillows. By the time she finally looked up and took a good look at herself in the mirror, it was already 2:30AM on a Thursday (or was it Friday?) and she hadn’t washed her face for a good twelve hours. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby decided to concede defeat. Her safe haven has officially turned against her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a total lost cause though. Ironically, </span>
  <span>Zoom</span>
  <span> meetings with Vlad and the rest of the company were slowly becoming Abby’s highlight of the week, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was definitely saying something. She never associated herself with people who got super caught up in the ‘all work, no sleep’ hustle culture, especially since that was more Nate’s style than hers. No, Abby Winters was the Queen of Wine Moms After 5PM, Khaleesi of Garlic Hummus and Pita Chips (from a bag), and Breaker of Sourdough Bread (that she made herself). And she was damn proud of it. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But when Maddie the cat made a cameo on screen, it was only logical for her to drop everything and pay her respects. After all, it was what Maddie deserved.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Maddie, put your tail down,” Vlad admonished when the little cat stuck her tail in the way of the camera, showcasing her latest grooming job proudly. It was quite pretty, if she had to say so herself. Fur didn’t stay so shiny and neat by themselves with no effort, after all. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby wanted to squeal.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] So. Cute. I want one! &lt;3 &lt;3 </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Nate Schwimmer</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Why don’t you take care of yourself first? You look like you just woke up.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Shut up buttmunch. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Nate Schwimmer</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Nice bedhead. What’s it made of? </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Your mom’s chest hair! ...And it’s called a messy bun.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Nate Schwimmer</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] ...That woman made you lasagna once, don’t you have any respect? </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Bite me, Schwimmer. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes and exited the chat box. Nate could be such an asshole sometimes, not that she gave him an easy time either. But still! Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement on screen as Maddie jumped away from Vlad’s hands, refusing to be picked up. Today was not a lap cat day, Maddie decided as she flounced off to go play elsewhere, much to the employees’ collective chagrin. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Bradley Larson</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Aww. </span>
  <span>🙁</span>
  
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] I know. Why do I even bother waking </span>
  <span>up...</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby grumbled to herself as she settled in for a long boring meeting. Without Maddie, there was just no point. She listened half-heartedly as the boss continued on about their new marketing campaign. At one point, Vlad asked her a question, which Abby answered decently enough to </span>
  <span>satisfy</span>
  <span> him and it was all she could do to not throw up her heart and scream.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Maddie, come to join the party again,” Vlad commented casually forty minutes in and watched as his cat sauntered across the desk. It made Abby smile, watching the little furball inch closer and sniff the camera lens. She was definitely getting a cat after this.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Maddie,” Vlad said, warning evident in his voice as his cat climbed onto the laptop. There was some insistent meowing, furry fidgeting, and a resigned sigh from her boss. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And then Maddie shoved her butthole up against the camera. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was a sharp laugh from someone in the call before going abruptly mute, but the damage was done. Abby spat the tea back into her cup, unable to stop herself from laughing. There was definitely cursing coming from her speakers now, as Vlad proceeded to turn off his camera and wrangle with the tiny puffball, his patience with the damn thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>at his limit. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Someone pinged her in the private chat. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Angela Campbell</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Tonight, there will be two moons in the sky. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] ...I’m so happy you’re my friend.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“You know, if you want her to stop bothering you during your meetings, then just close the door,” Danny said, playing with Maddie while Vlad busily flew through his paperwork. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s gotten used to my presence,” Vlad argued. “Depriving her of it will just make her anxious.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, someone’s soft for her,” Danny teased and squished Maddie’s furry little cheeks. “Someone can’t say no to you, can they, Mads?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Maddie meowed in agreement. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Vlad sighed, exasperated. “Between me distracting Maddie and Maddie distracting my employees, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> is getting done around here.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How about I keep her busy the next time you’re on call?” Danny offered. “This way you can go through a meeting without being interrupted.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Vlad looked thoughtful for a moment. “As long as she stays in the room, then, I guess it’ll have to suffice,” he agreed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He really was just a big </span>
  <span>softy,</span>
  <span> Danny thought and shook his head fondly. “</span>
  <span>Fruitloop</span>
  <span>.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard that.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Ugh, </span>
  <span>this blows</span>
  <span>,” Abby complained into her phone as she booted up her computer. It was Zoom meeting time again. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Vlad’s </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> talk about the work you’re doing this time, so be on your toes,” Angela warned through the receiver. “It’s hard to impress that man.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. That’s why it blows,” Abby repeated herself and hung up before logging into Zoom. There was an anxious twisty feeling in the pit of her stomach and she wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. She hated presenting. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A chime brought her into the Zoom room, and upon settling in, Abby frowned in confusion at her boss’s virtual background. A pink star-like circle framed Vlad’s head like a halo, surrounded by heaps of white fur. It took Abby longer than she’d like to admit to figure out what it was, but then it clicked. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Oh. My. GOD. It’s an asshole. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Angela Campbell</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Which one? I see two of them up there.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] AHA YOU BITCH I-</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby turned off her camera so Vlad couldn’t see her go into hysterics, just in time to hear her boss react with disgust when </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> finally figured out what it was that his darling Maddie had left behind for him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Daniel!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Vlad roared in anger. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Come fix this immediately!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <span>Abby Winters</span>
  </b>
  <span>: [private] Uhh...Who’s Daniel? </span>
</p><hr/><p>To be continued...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Okay, theory time,” Abby said, munching on her kale chips one late Saturday night. “Who is this Daniel dude?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nate frowned. “Does it really matter?”  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t piss on our party, pretty boy,” Abby said, grinning into the camera. “Guess!” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nate rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I don't know, probably some underpaid college grad that Vlad gets to boss around whenever he feels like it.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You just described all of us.” Angela snorted into her wine.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nate couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. “Damn, I feel bad for Daniel already and I don’t even know him.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, Vlad probably has hired help around the house,” Brad hummed. “Maybe that’s what he does?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean, like a personal IT guy?” Abby snickered. “Can you imagine a job where your sole purpose is to chase after some dude who can’t be bothered to work his own tech?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Angela laughed at Nate’s face through the screen. The guy looked ready to fight somebody. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I can,” he said, agitated. “That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally </span>
  </em>
  <span>what I do for a living, Abs.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby smirked through a mouthful of kale chips. “Oops, sorry not sorry.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>dick</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Brad smiled at his friends’ belligerent dynamic. Somehow, it worked for them. “Maybe he’s a personal assistant,” he brainstormed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Angela looked doubtful. “Nah, Vlad’s got Jolie for that.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Jolie doesn’t handle everything,” Brad said. “Mostly company stuff. It wouldn’t be super farfetched to say that Vlad has a personal assistant at home too.”  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure Vlad knows how to put on his own underwear,” Angela said wryly, cracking Nate up. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who said anything about putting it on?” Abby wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nate’s cheeks turned an impressive shade of red with that comment. “Ah, shut up, Abs!” He screamed into the laptop, the sound crackling and cutting out in odd places. “I don’t need that picture of my boss in my head. Why do you always speculate about shit like that?!”  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Abby, Angela, and Brad descended into hysterics, spurred on by Nate’s incessant blushing and yelling about how he didn’t want to know about Vlad’s sex life and what he was into. The less he knew, the better, he barked. He went to catholic school, goddammit!</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Abby, but I’m gonna have to disagree with you on this one,” Angela said, wiping a tear away. “Vlad’s notorious for being single. Even if he isn’t, why would he want to hide a relationship? He’s got nothing to lose. The guy practically owns the state of Wisconsin.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he’s not the one who wants to hide the relationship.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait,” Nate said, leaning closer to his screen. “Hold up. You’re telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Vlad Masters would let himself be in a relationship where he </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> call all the shots?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you weren’t interested in this conversation, church boy,” Angela teased. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nate sighed. “You’ve opened the door to hell. We’re all going to the bad place so let’s just move on.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just </span>
  <em>
    <span>saying</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Abby said, holding her hands up in a peaceful gesture. “That Vlad Masters has simp energy written all over his face.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Angela, Nate, and Brad stared at her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“What?!” </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t tell me he doesn’t have a mushy side. Look at him with his cat. He folds like a cheap tent!” Abby said defensively.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but Abs, it’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>cat</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Angela was staring at her like she was crazy. “All cats are objectively cute. If he didn’t fold, he’d be a sociopath.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Brad nodded along. “I would honestly believe it if Vlad turned out to be a sociopath.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Believe what you will,” Abby shrugged. “Mark my words though. If Vlad </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a relationship, he’s not gonna be wearing the pants. I may not know who Daniel is, but he’s definitely not giving me assistant vibes, if you know what I mean.”  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Something tickled Nate’s brain. “You </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> bet?” He said smugly. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A look of surprise flickered across Abby’s face. “Oh yeah?” She said, smiling deviously. “Fine. I raise you twenty bucks. What are the stakes?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nate thought about it for a moment. “Daniel is just his IT assistant and nothing more,” he said. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And that Vlad’s a simp!” Abby added. “The cat’s one thing. But if he gets the same way with Daniel then we definitely know.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Nate agreed. “You guys in or what?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck it, I’m in,” Angela sighed. Brad nodded next to her video square to show that he was in too. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was entertainment, at least. Ever since the pandemic started, things just kept getting weirder every day. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait a minute,” Angela blinked. “If you’re such a proponent of the ‘Vlad is a huge softy’ theory, then why doesn’t he pay us more for our jobs?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody had an answer to that. </span>
  
</p><hr/><p>To be continued...</p>
  </div></div>
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